Matthias’ mother was shocked. Horrified. She had been checking the pockets of Matthias’ jeans before washing them and a condom had fallen out. A condom!
He was only fourteen. Why the heck would he need a condom? A condom!
She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t ask him about it. Their family simply didn’t talk about such things. That’s what he went to school for. But, a condom! That was beyond the pale.
And what was she to do with it? Where was she to put it? Did she burn it? Flush it? Put it out with the garbage? She dropped it into her apron pocket, started the washing machine, and went off to vacuum the house.
No good asking her husband. He was dead.
But what is this clogging the vacuum cleaner beneath her daughter’s bed? It’s a man’s tee shirt. A man’s tee shirt! It didn’t belong to Matthias. It didn’t belong to her other son, Barnaby. What was a man’s tee shirt doing beneath her daughter’s bed?
She was horrified. Malvina, her daughter, was only sixteen. Had a man been in there? And why would he take off his tee shirt? Where was she to put it? What was she to do with it? She couldn’t ask her about it. Their family simply didn’t talk about such things. She sniffed the tee shirt. It was used. It was dirty. It stank of testosterone.
At least Barnaby had grown up normal. He was eighteen. She might even pluck up enough courage to ask him what she should do about his brother and sister. He was sensible. He was in the house somewhere.
There he is! Just outside the front door saying goodbye to his friend, Daniel. They’ve been friends since school.
They’re kissing! They’re kissing! Tongue and all! They’re kissing on the mouth!